


i take a sip (and say a prayer)

by amosanguis



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Gen, Protective Bruce Wayne, Superman Ex Machina, title from a country song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 20:15:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11089119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: Bruce’s head lolls to the side and he thinks he hears someone scream (maybe it was the ghosts, maybe it was Flash - sometimes there was just no telling).





	i take a sip (and say a prayer)

**Author's Note:**

> \--Title from "Confession" by Florida Georgia Line  
> \--Uses the DCEU roster, but may not fit in beyond that.  
> \--Is only kinda sorta related to [chapter 9](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4483619/chapters/24169398) of my fic _The Bullet's Whistle_ in that I started to expand it, and then it took on a life of it's own.

-z-

 

If you want to take out the Flash, you have to take his legs.  It’s simple math – the Fastest Man can’t run if he’s got no legs, and you’ll win it all.

 

-x-

 

Bruce’s head lolls to the side and he thinks he hears someone scream (maybe it was the ghosts, maybe it was Flash – sometimes there was just no telling).

He tries to concentrate, but there’s little oxygen left – so he just stares.  He stares at the blood pooling around Flash’s thigh, at the chains that hold them both down and bound, at the guns held by ghosts.

 

-x-

 

If you want to take out the Batman, you have to take out his friends.  It’s simple math – distract him with his own kindness, with his own rules, and you’ll win it all.

 

-x-

 

Flash has his hand to his ear and he’s screaming: “Blue! Wonder Woman! Cyborg!  Is anyone hearing me?! _Hello!_ ”

And then Batman stops paying attention.  The force of the bomb has obviously disabled their ear pieces.  He tries to say as much to Flash, but Flash isn’t listening and Batman can barely find the air to talk.

Then the building begins to shudder and shake and then it’s falling down around them.  (He knows the odds are stacked against them, but he’d let Flash hope. They’d only had a few more minutes anyway – the smoke was getting thicker, the flames getting hotter – so he’d let the Flash _believe_.  It’d been Batman’s gift to him.)

But then the roof is falling on top of them as the floor beneath gives way.

 

-x-

 

If you want to take out Superman, you take a civilian hostage – don’t touch his friends, though, they tend to be apt and it’ll just piss him off, it’s simple math – you have to grab someone he _doesn’t_ know.

Someone like Bruce Wayne – there’d be just enough media attention for when things went south, and there’s no likelihood they’d know each other.

It was perfect.

 

-x-

 

“I’m here, I’m here,” Clark’s voice is distant – mostly lost on the roar of the flames around them.

Bruce looks at Clark and before he can really focus on him, on the red flash of light from Clark’s eyes as he frees Flash, the heat of the fire is gone and Clark has both himself and Flash outside – carefully laying them down on the asphalt in front of an ambulance.

Clark breaks the chains around Bruce before running his eyes over the rest of him.

Bruce reaches up to pull Clark down to him, to press their foreheads together – but paramedics are suddenly there and they’re pulling an oxygen mask over his face, talking hurriedly to each other above him.

In his periphery, he sees Flash beside him, eyes closed, his chest barely moving with each shallow breath.  Part of the rebar still in his leg.

He feels Clark take his hand and Bruce looks over as Clark says, “I’m going to help with the fire – I’ll call Dr. Thompkins.  I’ll find you at the hospital.”

Bruce gives him the barest nod, before his eyes are slipping closed.

 

-

 

Barry sits at his bedside, his head in his hands, beating himself up for not seeing the trap for what it was.

“It happens,” Bruce says, his voice raspy, looking away from the Watch Tower’s windows and the view of the Earth far below them and over to Barry.  “All you can do is learn from it.”

Barry looks up, big brown eyes red-rimmed.  “I’m—”

“I know, kid,” Bruce interrupts, reaching over and digging his fingers into Barry’s hair and pulling him forward, pressing his cheek to the top of Barry’s head. 

It’s the same gesture he’s used with all the Robins – when they’re tired and aching from a mistake that may have cost a life.  Barry, for all his ability and experiences, was still so young and Bruce couldn’t help wanting to reach out and comfort him (he doesn’t think about how he’d calculated the odds and then kept the figures to himself in the moment he believed them dead).

Barry carefully wraps an arm around Bruce’s waist, keeps his head tucked under Bruce’s chin.

While it had been easy for Barry to settle amongst the others of the League, he still always found his way back to Bruce’s side (typically after he’d angered Cyborg and needed a place to hide).  And Bruce would always welcome him.

They both look up when the door opens and Clark walks in, he smiles gently at Barry before he settles on the bed beside them.

“I’m glad you guys are okay,” Clark says, watching the way Bruce’s fingers card through Barry’s hair, slow and gentle.

“Yeah,” Barry says, looking away from Clark and down at the space between them.

“Do we know who was behind this yet?” Bruce asks, changing the subject – trying to chase some of the guilt and tension from the air.

“Not yet,” Clark answers, “but I think we’re close.”

Bruce nods, his eyes sliding closed.  “Give me another couple of hours and I’ll see what I can dig up,” he says.

Clark goes to argue, but instead he just nods and says, “Okay, Bruce, whenever you’re ready.”  Then he stands and presses a soft kiss to Bruce’s forehead, touches Barry gently on the shoulder, before he turns to leave.

 

-x-

 

If you want to take out the Flash, you have to take his legs.  If you want to take out the Batman, you have to take out his friends.  If you want to take out Superman, you take a civilian hostage – someone he doesn’t know, someone like Bruce Wayne.

It was a simple plan, a perfect plan.

But sometimes even the most perfect of plans fall apart – something that Brainiac knew all too well.

 

-z-

 

End.


End file.
